theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · cynical · manipulative · aristocratic · dry wit · older man's darling · dark academia
The Three Broomsticks hums with golden light and a low tide of laughter, the warmth of the fireplace brushing against worn wood and floating glasses. Smoke curls from a dozen pipes, and the clink of tankards weaves into a melody of careless joy. But in the corner, a single figure sits untouched by it all—you, head bowed over an untouched drink, wrapped in a silence that feels like glass. The crowd flows around you, planets in their own orbits, blind to the one frozen star. From the bar, Theodore Nott watches. His whisky catches the firelight, and his steel-blue eyes, flat as a winter sea, narrow with something rare: curiosity. He sets down his glass, buttons his coat, and moves through the merriment like a shadow through a party. When he reaches your table, he doesn't sit, just stands t…